Post by Sparks on Dec 12, 2004 9:28:55 GMT -8
Exerpt from my story right now. I cut it in half and I'll post the other half if anybody comes to this thread and reads it, and wants to see how the event falls into place. I know how it is to look at something and think 
Ohgod how long will this take.
But I don't think you'll get bored of it.
I tried to make it rather exciting.
Also, just so you don't get confused, The main character (Dan), first person point of view, is a 21 year old Male.
--
CAMERON
I remember Kendra screaming out. I remember my heart peeling apart like an orange rind as I saw the gun misfire. I remember staring across the room, knowing in the back of my head that the future was a one-way road. The headlights in front of us were his eyes, black fire. Flaring up like an explosion in an empty street.
I couldn’t move. He instinctively, it would seem, clutched his palms against his chest when the pulse of the shot rang out into the still air and hung, like an boxing day mistletoe.
When he hit the ground, only feet away from the other man, he hit it hard. His body first, and then the thick smack of the back of his head against the floorboards. I could see Kendra dashing to his side. I knew my body was with her. I was at his side, screaming in his ears, trying to pull him into consciousness. Kendra dug two of her delicate fingers into his neck. I remember her shouting that he had a pulse, shouting and shouting. My ears were ringing, and Cameron’s eyes were shut.
He wouldn’t move. Kendra’s mouth on his, his chest rising faintly beneath his jacket as they breathed together.
I bent down over him while Kendra continued to blow life into his lungs. I ripped off that jean jacket, and what I saw froze the oxygen in my lungs. It nearly choked me. The flowery red stain blossoming on his pure white shirt. His closed eyelids and his slowly inflating lungs. I could feel the pressure in my eyes building while Kendra breathed, breathed, breathed.
Every five seconds, another breath, as she listened and waited for him to start taking in air on his own.
I tripped over my own horror, grasping for the cell phone in my jacket, on the floor. My fingers pulsing to a timeless rhythm against the buttons.
Nine attempts to hit the numbers with my shaking fingers.
One more breath into Cameron’s lungs.
One moment between the barrel and the bullethole was all it took. It was all it took.
I was on the phone with his future. I could not find the words that I was looking for. I was drawn back to the tragedy, more and more every second, and by the time the call had been made, I was back on my knees. I couldn’t do anything. I ripped his shirt and gazed down onto his pale flesh, a milky tan-white that equalled my own. He looked exactly like I did.
I have never been able to see any resemblance in us beyond our dark brown hair. With his eyes closed, though, he was forcing me into a déjà vu that I couldn’t possibly welcome. I panted, trying to close the gushing wound, with pictures of empty roads and New Year’s Eve skies clicking through my mind like images from a crushed camera. I tried to make myself yell in his ears, but his blood was warm on my hands, and soon the white and red combination of broken skin and blooming scarlet esistence took over my entire reality.
My hands on his chest were all that existed, anymore, of our lifelong bond. Inside we were breaking apart.
Kendra breathed out, shaking wildly, and Cameron’s chest rose and fell. I recognized the naked fact that we couldn’t stop. We couldn’t stop. The splintered glass on the floor behind us reflected the entire episode as it ripped apart; folded up like the photo of my father that used to hang on my bedroom wall as a kid. In the glass, we were barely more than outlines and impersonations.
Ohgod how long will this take.But I don't think you'll get bored of it.
I tried to make it rather exciting.
Also, just so you don't get confused, The main character (Dan), first person point of view, is a 21 year old Male.
--
CAMERON
I remember Kendra screaming out. I remember my heart peeling apart like an orange rind as I saw the gun misfire. I remember staring across the room, knowing in the back of my head that the future was a one-way road. The headlights in front of us were his eyes, black fire. Flaring up like an explosion in an empty street.
I couldn’t move. He instinctively, it would seem, clutched his palms against his chest when the pulse of the shot rang out into the still air and hung, like an boxing day mistletoe.
When he hit the ground, only feet away from the other man, he hit it hard. His body first, and then the thick smack of the back of his head against the floorboards. I could see Kendra dashing to his side. I knew my body was with her. I was at his side, screaming in his ears, trying to pull him into consciousness. Kendra dug two of her delicate fingers into his neck. I remember her shouting that he had a pulse, shouting and shouting. My ears were ringing, and Cameron’s eyes were shut.
He wouldn’t move. Kendra’s mouth on his, his chest rising faintly beneath his jacket as they breathed together.
I bent down over him while Kendra continued to blow life into his lungs. I ripped off that jean jacket, and what I saw froze the oxygen in my lungs. It nearly choked me. The flowery red stain blossoming on his pure white shirt. His closed eyelids and his slowly inflating lungs. I could feel the pressure in my eyes building while Kendra breathed, breathed, breathed.
Every five seconds, another breath, as she listened and waited for him to start taking in air on his own.
I tripped over my own horror, grasping for the cell phone in my jacket, on the floor. My fingers pulsing to a timeless rhythm against the buttons.
Nine attempts to hit the numbers with my shaking fingers.
One more breath into Cameron’s lungs.
One moment between the barrel and the bullethole was all it took. It was all it took.
I was on the phone with his future. I could not find the words that I was looking for. I was drawn back to the tragedy, more and more every second, and by the time the call had been made, I was back on my knees. I couldn’t do anything. I ripped his shirt and gazed down onto his pale flesh, a milky tan-white that equalled my own. He looked exactly like I did.
I have never been able to see any resemblance in us beyond our dark brown hair. With his eyes closed, though, he was forcing me into a déjà vu that I couldn’t possibly welcome. I panted, trying to close the gushing wound, with pictures of empty roads and New Year’s Eve skies clicking through my mind like images from a crushed camera. I tried to make myself yell in his ears, but his blood was warm on my hands, and soon the white and red combination of broken skin and blooming scarlet esistence took over my entire reality.
My hands on his chest were all that existed, anymore, of our lifelong bond. Inside we were breaking apart.
Kendra breathed out, shaking wildly, and Cameron’s chest rose and fell. I recognized the naked fact that we couldn’t stop. We couldn’t stop. The splintered glass on the floor behind us reflected the entire episode as it ripped apart; folded up like the photo of my father that used to hang on my bedroom wall as a kid. In the glass, we were barely more than outlines and impersonations.
